


Uncomplicated

by JasnNCarly



Category: Dean Ambrose - Fandom, Jon Moxley - Fandom, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Ambrose x Reader, F/M, Imagines, One Shot, Requested Dean, Short One Shot, Tumblr, greygirlmoxley, wwe imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15079355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasnNCarly/pseuds/JasnNCarly
Summary: Life gets in the way of budding romance





	Uncomplicated

******x Uncomplicated x**

“Come on, papa!” You call out to your nephew as he makes his way down the slide once more then runs towards you until you’ve lifted his five-year-old frame; settling him on your hip, you adjust your lap top bag on your shoulder and sigh, “What you want for dinner, huh? Usual?”

When his big brown eyes grow, his teeth showing as his smile widens too, you nod firmly and get him away from the playground before he can set his Nikes to the ground again.

Luckily, you know just what to get for his spaghetti. Your little man is very particular from the sauce, to the noodle, to spice of the ground beef. Grabbing a car cart in the grocery store, you keep him occupied with fast walks and the promise of a Popsicle after dinner.

He had been in your “temporary” custody for almost a year, and you had become a mother without ever intending to do so…family was family. You took care of them first.

Standing in line, you start to dig in your purse at the loud vibration of your cell phone. You found it and saw his text.

_Dinner tonight?_

You swallow hard.

The ice is thin between you and Dean, but you want things to be solid. If you didn’t have your little buddy uprooting your entire life, pursuit of a relationship would have seemed far more possible. Yet, there you were at four-thirty in the afternoon. Ready to eat the meal you might puke upon first bite (redundancy didn’t work well for you) and knew not a babysitter you trusted would be available on such short notice.

Dean lived his life on short and abrupt notices, offering you time when he could and was in town. Your courtship played out primarily through cell phones (of which he hated), and your decline of his offer would surely feel like rejection.

“Auntie!”

Still as your nephew hops out of the car end of the cart and points to chocolate, you know you have no other decision. You shake your head no, signal for him to follow you to counter front of cashier; you begin to text back as your groceries are being checked out, releasing a disappointed sigh that you hope translates in text.

_I can’t._

——

You finish tucking him into his Batman bedding and glance around your nephew’s busy room.

It used to be your office, a space devoted entirely to knocking out deals and beginning new projects. Now, that had all been stuffed to a corner of the living room, and it looked like you had never lived alone. You glance down at his figures which were a mixture of mutants, superheroes, and wrestlers; all of them around the room like little land mines – God bless your bare feet. Seeing Dean’s figurine, you pout your lip and wonder how the same thing that got you to meet him in the first place was also the reason you were putting up walls and growing distant.

You had met Dean during a meet and greet which your nephew had begged you for; it was instant. Dean included a number on the back of the photo, and you called the same night after attending the show. Since then, he stole time with you whenever he could…often dealing with your nephew’s hero worship as well.

You reach over to stroke your nephew’s dark hair, smiling as your heart swells with familiar certainty, and tell yourself that everything has to work out eventually. Twisting your ponytail into a bun, you return to the kitchen and busy yourself with the dinner’s mess.

Nearly all the dishes are done when you hear a soft knock on your front door; you hush your yapping dog and take a look through the peephole.

You see a whisp of his dark blonde hair before he leans back, grimacing as he tries to stretch his back; you look at your damp shirt from your careless washing and debate a quick change until he knocks again.

“You really gonna make me stand out here all night?”

His raspy groan makes you melt, fogs your mind, and you open the door, “What are you doing here, Dean?”

“Hello to you, too, darlin’.” With a wink to you, he grabs his bag and struts into your apartment with a soft pat to your behind.

You jump a little in surprise, chuckling sharp, and shut the door, quickly locking up; if he had showed up at your apartment, you would put obstacles in his way rather than readily letting him leave. As he falls into a seat on your sofa, you place his bag on one of the counter stools, “Do you need anything washed? Did you eat at the arena? Could I—”

“(Y/N),” His call causes you to stop rambling as he pats the space beside him, “Come on.”

You would gladly fall into his arms, question him about how much he was hating your half-ass five month back and forth, but you restrain yourself. Rubbing your biceps a little, you begin to explain, “I couldn’t get anyone to watch him today, and—he’s been a little wound up so…”

Dean’s head rolls towards you, resting it on the back of the couch, “Would you just sit with me already?”

Forcing a smile, thinking ‘shut up, (Y/N)’, you take a seat beside him and enjoy his fresh soapy scent. Apparently, he wanted to make an impression on you as much as you hated the one you were making upon him. You circle your arm around his waist, settling your head on his shoulder, and your eyes shut the second his lips place a tender kiss upon your forehead.

“I got him a present in my bag.” Dean bends forward with a groan, beginning to unlace his boots, “Figured I could give it to him tomorrow with breakfast.”

You can’t help but laugh, propping your elbow against the couch and staring at him, “I guess you forgot to book a hotel for the night, huh?”

A playful ‘sorry’ wince plays on his features before he gets to the second boot.

You bite your lip, making a quick decision, and stand on the couch; throwing one leg, you slide down into a space you create for yourself behind him. When his body scoots forward a little, your hands begin to work the knots out of his back and shoulders.

As you hear that blissful moan of approval, his body slumps (his boots now settled under the coffee table). Dean moves into your touch when you reach the thicker tension, feeling the pressure of your hands ease his body back to some sort of normalcy.

Tilting your head, you see his eyelids grow heavy; your hands lighten their touch as your puckered lips meet the back of his neck. Feathering your lips along his neck, you hear the growl that signals you have his full attention.

With a burst of laughter, you throw your limbs around him as his arms have hooked around your thighs and begin to carry you in a piggyback ride towards your room. You bury your face against his skin, passing your nephew and being as quiet as possible.

Thankfully, Dean made it a priority to shut and lock your door quietly before indulging you in the adult time you desperately needed.


End file.
